


The Wives of Hugh Crain

by MarianneGreenleaf



Category: The Haunting (1999)
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Marital Rape, Suicide, implied/referenced child murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-20
Updated: 2012-09-20
Packaged: 2020-09-26 16:37:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20392810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarianneGreenleaf/pseuds/MarianneGreenleaf
Summary: It is well known that Hugh Crain was a monster. Being his wife couldn't have been easy. But why did Rene kill herself? And how did Carolyn escape the same fate?





	1. Prologue

Nell, Theo and Luke sat in rapt attention as Dr. Marrow began to tell the story of Hill House.

"Once upon a time there was a king who built a castle. His name was Hugh Crain. A hundred and thirty years ago, towns like Concord, Manchester were the center of American Industry. That's where Crain made a fortune – on the backs of workers in his textile mills. Now this man could have anything he wanted. But what he wanted more than anything was a house filled with the laughter of children."

"That's why there are all the carvings," murmured Nell.

Dr. Marrow went on. "He married the most beautiful woman in town, called Rene, and he built her this house. At least, some of it."

Theo smiled. "God, it sounds like a fairy tale, or something."

"But that's where the fairy tale ends. Hugh and Rene would have no children." He paused. "They all died at birth. Then a few years later, Rene, she passed away, and Crain became a total recluse. But he kept on building, adding room upon room, it's as if he was building a home for the family he would never have. No one had seen Crain for years. But the townspeople said that sometimes at night they could hear sounds coming from Hill House. Sounds of children."

"It's so sad," Nell whispered.

A log split loudly in the fireplace, making them all jump.

As their fear turned into laughter, Dr. Marrow's assistant Mary stood up.

"I think there's more to that story." She gazed nervously around the cavernous parlor. "I can feel it. It's all around us…"


	2. Rene

Rene Bennett was dizzy with pleasure. Hugh Crain had asked her to marry him! She would be the wife of the handsomest, richest man in town – wouldn't all the other girls be jealous.

It was an unexpected proposal, which made it all the more thrilling. Hugh Crain was so unlike her other suitors – of which there were never any lack, her being the town beauty, and a gregarious woman, besides. The men were all so fawning, so slavishly devoted, that she could read them as easily as a cheap dime-store novel. But Hugh Crain always gazed at her with an inscrutable eye. She never knew what he was thinking.

He simultaneously frightened and fascinated her. Rene had never had a suitor as wealthy or captivating as Hugh Crain, and it would be a sin to let him slip through her fingers, now that she had caught him. So she accepted to his proposal on the spot.

XXX

The following weeks were a blur of frenzied activity as Rene prepared for her new life. Hugh Crain encouraged her to let her imagination run wild as she planned their wedding. He assured her that no dream was unattainable, and that she should do exactly as she pleased.

Rene did not hesitate to take his assurances seriously, and the end result was an exquisitely elegant affair that the townspeople would talk about for years to come. A few curmudgeonly souls would later grumble that the wedding was lavish to the point of decadence, but they seemed to enjoy themselves as well as anyone else at the time.

After the festivities were concluded, everyone gathered around to cheer the new couple as they drove off to the recently completed Hill House, which Hugh Crain had built expressly for his new wife. As the coach passed through the gates of the massive estate, Rene dreamily remarked that she felt just like a queen who had come home to her castle.

Her new husband chuckled but did not reply. He only gazed at her, his lips curled in a slight smirk.

Rene squirmed in her seat. She recognized the look on his face all too well. She had seen that look before, in every single one of her suitors. It was the way they watched her when they thought she wasn't looking. It was an insolent, leering look that said: _though I may not be able to see what lies beneath your gown, you cannot stop me from imagining to my heart's content. _

She had thought Hugh Crain was different. But she now realized that his courteous expression was merely a mask he had worn to lure her in.

XXX

Rene was exhausted after all the excitement of the day and was looking forward to a warm bath and a comfortable bed. But she soon found out that her husband had other plans.

As they entered Hill House, Rene looked around in awe. The furnishings were grander than anything she had ever seen in her life, and there were so many adorable carvings of fat, smiling little creatures. "What darling little cherubs!"

"They are not cherubs, they are children," said her husband.

"Children?" asked Rene curiously.

The leering gaze she disliked crept back into his eyes. "Yes – children."

Rene giggled nervously.

Hugh Crain grabbed her hand and pulled her up the main staircase.

"Where are we going?" she gasped, trying to keep up with her husband's determined stride.

"To my chamber." His voice was husky with desire. "I want a house full of children, Rene. And you are going to give them to me."

XXX

For a woman who had been called convivial (if one were inclined to be kind) and a flirt (if one were not so inclined), Rene was shockingly ignorant of matters between a husband and a wife. She knew from the heated looks of her suitors that something did go on – else why would they be so eager to marry? – but her imagination never went beyond a fervent embrace, or a kiss.

Her ignorance was soon remedied in a very brusque, matter-of-fact manner. After it was over, and Rene had reached the safety of her chamber, she burst into tears. _That_ was why men were so eager to marry? _That_ was what her suitors had imagined when they ogled her? Rene was mortified to the very core of her being. It was so ghastly, so undignified!

A woman would never be so vulgar. Comforted by this thought, Rene sat down at her vanity and gazed steadily at her reflection. Her husband may possess her body, but he could not possess her soul.

Or so she thought.

XXX

If Hugh Crain had been gentle and patient with Rene, she might have eventually overcome her shame and known joy. But he was a cold, domineering man who ran roughshod over her feelings. He summoned her to him at any hour he pleased, and if she did not come, he went and fetched her. And it was even more unpleasant then.

So it was not a surprise when Rene became pregnant after only one month of marriage. What was a surprise was that her husband's demeanor toward her changed completely. He became unfailingly attentive and responsive to all her needs. The endless summons became a thing of the past because he didn't want to damage her health.

Rene reveled in the attention and eagerly gobbled up the many gifts that came her way, and she spent every last cent that her husband gave her on various baubles and trinkets. This was more like what she had envisioned that her marriage to Hugh Crain would be like.

When her husband made allusions to this child being the "first of many," Rene no longer felt dread in the pit of her stomach. Instead, she sighed contentedly and said, "I'd like that very much."

Her husband chuckled. "I knew you'd eventually come to see it my way." Then he'd give her a gift, or a small sum of money to spend on whatever she pleased.

And Rene would smile quietly to herself, thinking that if she were to be treated like this when she was with child, she would give him all the children in the world. Of course, it would be unpleasant to endure her husband's rough caresses, but it was just a simple matter of making sure she was pregnant more often than she was not. And then they'd both be happy.

XXX

But tragedy struck. Rene's baby was born dead. It was a little girl.

It was hard to say who was more heartbroken, Rene or her husband. Though Rene had originally been looking forward to having a child only because it would elevate her in the eyes of her husband, her child was so beautiful, so perfectly formed, that she immediately fell in love with her.

Rene had surrendered her heart to her beautiful baby girl – only to have it cruelly broken. The pain was almost unendurable. This is when she needed her husband's affection the most. But Hugh Crain had made himself a recluse. He never visited Rene even once during her convalescence.

As soon as Dr. Booth pronounced her cured, however, Hugh Crain began summoning Rene again. He was as vigorous as he had ever been, and just as determined to have a child. Her disgust increased. How could he even think of having another when his first had just barely been buried?

Rene soon became pregnant again and the summons stopped, to her relief. But this time there were no gifts for her, and she received no allowance. This time she was ordered to bed. She resented this greatly – she was only in her third month! Also, she was only nineteen – far too young to be a bedridden invalid. And what was the point of being pregnant if she was treated the same as when she was not?

XXX

Despite all the care that was taken, Rene once again gave birth to a dead baby. A boy this time.

She did not recover as quickly as she had before, physically or emotionally. Two babies. Two deaths. Two little pieces of her soul, gone forever.

Once again, Hugh Crain disappeared as she recuperated, leaving her to wander the vast desert of her despair alone. She hoped he would leave her alone for good, but the moment her convalescence was over, the summons began once more.

And so Rene became pregnant yet again. This time she could not even carry the child to term – she miscarried at only five months.

Rene had had enough. She was determined that Hugh Crain would never again cause her to be with child. When the first summons came after her recovery, she not only refused to answer it, she went and hid, instead of waiting to be fetched like a lamb to the slaughter.

Admittedly, it was not a well-thought out plan, but she intended to give him a little scare. Perhaps he would think she ran away, and realize that he should treat her a lot more nicely.

At first her husband was furious that she had disobeyed a direct order, and she heard him storming around Hill House demanding that she come out. But when he finally found her, he burst into laughter and declared it great sport that she should hide from him. His desire was only whetted by her reluctance.

Her hands clenched into fists. "I hate you," she spat. "And I will never give you another child!"

He laughed. "Your feelings are duly noted. But they doesn't matter one way or the other to me – I _will_ have a child off you."

And, as was his wont, Hugh Crain did exactly as he pleased.

XXX

For a woman who was merely twenty-three years of age, Rene spent a lot of time confined to her bed, either enduring a pregnancy or recovering from one. She was trapped on a carousel that never stopped spinning. The only way she could get off of it was if she could finally, at long last, bear a live child. She prayed fervently for one to come, but her prayers remained unanswered.

Then she started hearing the voices of children at night. In her less lucid moments she imagined they were her dead babies, running and gamboling through the halls of Hill House, calling for her to come and play with them.

But she soon found out these were no phantom children. One evening, while she was lying in bed recovering from her fourth miscarriage (or was it her fifth? She had stopped counting after the third) a little girl burst into her chamber.

"Help me, mistress!" cried the poor, scrawny little thing. She was dressed in a heavily patched gown and her face needed washing. She could not have been more than ten years old.

Rene's heart went out to her. "What's the matter?"

"He's after me! I don't know what he means to do – "

Heavy footsteps thundered down the hall. Hugh Crain was coming.

"Get under my bed," hissed Rene. In a flash, the girl disappeared.

The doors to Rene's chamber were thrown open. Rene pretended to be asleep. She heard her husband enter the room and rustle around in her armoire, her tapestries, and who knew where else.

"I know you're in here," he crooned. "Come out, come out, wherever you are…" The rustling continued. Then everything went quiet.

Rene opened her eyes slightly. What she saw made her shudder. Her husband was standing very still, his head cocked to one side, his nose in the air. With his thick, mane-like sideburns and beard, he looked like a lion sniffing out its prey.

Then he lunged and dragged the little girl kicking and screaming out from under the bed.

Rene leapt to her feet, ready to snatch the child from him, but she immediately grew faint and had to lie back down. Her recent miscarriage had completely sapped her strength.

Though she was weak, her outrage was not lessened. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded to know.

"Sorry to disturb you, my dear," her husband said nonchalantly, struggling to control the squirming girl.

"Who is she?" asked Rene. "And what is she doing here?"

The question, "What will you do to her?" was left unasked. She didn't have the heart to hear the answer.

"This is a girl from one of my mills in Concord." He tightened his grip. "A very naughty girl, who will be punished." But he did not sound displeased. The tone of his voice was that of a man who was about to sit down to dine on a savory roast.

The girl lay limply in his arms and did not fight when he led her out of the room. She knew, as did Rene, that all hope of escape was gone.

XXX

Rene had to get away from Hugh Crain. She had to leave Hill House. But she was as weak as a newborn kitten. How could she escape when she could barely leave her bed?

She came up with the perfect plan. Dr. Booth was routinely called to Hill House to examine her, so all she had to do was wait for his next visit. When he came, she would tell him everything, and he would be so horrified that he would insist that she leave with him. Then she would never have to see Hugh Crain ever again.

It was so simple. What could go wrong?

XXX

When Dr. Booth visited a fortnight later, she patiently sat through his examination and said not a word. But as soon as it was concluded, and he was preparing to leave, she opened her mouth and said,

"My husband has been kidnapping children." She said this calmly, coolly. Dr. Booth must not think these were the ravings of a lunatic.

She was successful – he instantly took a seat next to her bed. "What?"

"It's true," she said gravely. "He takes them from his mills in Concord and brings them here, to Hill House."

"Why would he do this?" asked Dr. Booth gently.

"I think he likes to play with them," she whispered. "Because he cannot have any of his own."

"I see," he said, awestruck.

Rene went on. "I hear their voices at night. At first I thought they were my dead babes calling to me, but one night, a girl burst into my chamber. And then everything became clear."

"What became clear?"

She sighed. "I thought I was so clever, so smart to catch Hugh Crain. I did not see – I could not see – that he was the one who caught me. Just like he caught the little girl."

Dr. Booth regarded her with a somber expression.

"Hugh Crain is a spider, and Hill House is his web." She laughed bleakly. "And I am the poor fly who is caught in it."

She thought Dr. Booth would take her away immediately. But all he did was stare at her in quiet horror.

Rene tried to galvanize him into action. "Doctor – I must leave this place. I cannot stay another minute." She put her hand on his, and allowed emotion to creep into her voice for the first time. "Please."

"It is just as he told me," Dr. Booth breathed. "Paranoia…delusions…" He shook her hand away as though it were a snake that had threaded itself unpleasantly through his fingers. Then he stood up briskly. "I must go. Nothing further can be gained by my staying here."

"No!" she cried, grabbing his hand again. "You must take me with you!"

If she had been strong enough, Rene would have gotten out of bed, thrown her arms around Dr. Booth's legs, and refused to let go until he promised to take her with him. Since she could not do this, she did the only thing she could do – she burst into tears. "I cannot stay at Hill House another minute!"

"You must rest," he said firmly. "You are tired, and overwrought."

"I will not rest until you promise to take me with you!" she shrieked, clutching his hand as tightly as she could. "Promise me!"

Dr. Booth easily extricated himself from her feeble grip. "I am going."

"No! No! No!" she screamed. Her hand frantically grasped for his but only caught air. There was now no way she could hold him to her.

Rene gave full reign to the emotions coursing through her. She screeched. She howled. She sobbed so hard and with such abandon that she threw up. Any doctor worth his salt could not ignore a patient's throes of agony. If she worked herself into hysteria, he would have to come back. Then she would make him see reason.

But Dr. Booth did not come back.

XXX

Rene had no other option than to try to run away on her own. No one would help her. She understood this now. Instead of praying for children, she began plotting her escape.

She reviewed her situation. Though she was still weak, her strength was slowly returning. Once she could walk again, she could leave.

Unfortunately, things were not so simple. As soon as she was recovered, the inexorable summons would begin again. And they would inevitably lead to another pregnancy, and another miscarriage, and then her health would wane even further. There was a very good chance she would not recover next time. Dr. Booth had warned her against getting pregnant again. As if it had been her fault in the first place!

The only way she could escape was if she did not get herself with child. A difficult proposition, to be sure, but one that she might be able accomplish if she were careful.

Until she was ready to leave, she would make sure that no one discovered her recovery. Dr. Booth thought her mad, so she would use this to her advantage. She would simply pretend to be ill for a little longer than she really was, and all the while, she would regain her strength by taking clandestine walks at night. Then, when she was able, she would simply walk out of Hill House, never to return.

Rene did not stop to wonder what she would do after that. She had no money, and nowhere to go. And Hugh Crain would most likely fetch her back once he learned she was gone.

But she did not care – all that mattered was getting safely past the gates of Hill House. Once she reached that milestone, the next step would surely reveal itself to her.

XXX

Rene was taking a stroll in the greenhouse when she heard heavy footsteps, and a frightened squeal. They were both headed in her direction.

How could she forget? Her husband also liked to come out at night. Rene dodged behind a statue.

A little boy came charging into the greenhouse, with Hugh Crain hot on his heels.

"Help!" the boy cried.

But it was too late. The game was over. The lion had caught his prey. Rene heard the boy's muffled screams fade into silence.

Rene felt white-hot fury coursing through her veins. She could not simply cower behind a stature while her husband murdered a helpless child. She must do something. Even if her actions brought about her own downfall.

She stormed over to her husband. "Let the child go," she commanded.

Hugh Crain was so stunned that his hands – which were firmly wound around the poor child's neck – loosened. The boy wriggled himself free and fled.

Husband and wife stood glaring at each other, in a tense standoff.

"Well, look who's up and about," he finally said.

"Yes – and I'm up for good," she replied.

"Glad to hear it." He circled her, like a shark. "And so the dance begins again." He stroked her cheek. "But will the seventh time be the charm?"

She shrank from his touch. "There will not be a seventh time."

Hugh Crain made a tutting noise. "Always the pessimist."

"You just tried to kill a child!" she exclaimed. "How can you expect me to give you one now?"

He grabbed her by the shoulders. "It is because you cannot give me a child that I must resort to doing these things. Every child of yours that dies will be repaid in kind a hundred-fold! Why should my workers – most of whom are not fit to shine my shoes – have the blessings that I am denied?"

Rene cried out. This was sick, inhuman.

"But I will not be denied," he hissed. "You will give me a child, sooner or later."

"But I could die!" she cried. "Dr. Booth says I am not strong enough to survive another miscarriage."

"Ah yes, Dr. Booth," he said sardonically. "Dr. Booth is very concerned for your health. He fears that all your miscarriages have begun to affect your mind."

"That's only because you poisoned him against me!" she said venomously.

"Poisoned? Not at all! I merely confessed my worries to him, as a good husband should." He chuckled. "After that splendid little scene of yours, he was forced to agree that you were mentally unbalanced. In fact, he was so alarmed by your behavior that he recommended I send you to Bedlam Asylum."

Rene's throat tightened. She had not considered this possibility. "And so?"

"So – do you wish to go to Bedlam Asylum? One word from me is all it would take for you to be committed."

Rene's eyes widened. "No!"

"Then you will do as I command," he said silkily.

Her eyes stung with tears. "But I could die."

He looked steadily at her. "Well, that's just the chance you're going to have to take, now isn't it?"

She gaped at him in disbelief.

He chose to take her silence as a tacit assent. "I have some unfinished business to take care of. After it is complete, I will retire to my chamber. I expect you to be there. Do not make me come looking for you." He turned on his heel and left.

Rene collapsed to the ground and wept. The carousel she had been riding on for the last seven years had finally spun out of control. Two choices – to be committed, or to let Hugh Crain once more attempt to get her with child. Two choices – each worse than the next.

She would have picked the asylum, had she not desperately feared it. She had heard many stories about the horrible conditions patients had to endure – to go from Hill House to Bedlam Asylum would be like falling from the frying pan into the fire. But to let that monster touch her again – she simply couldn't bear it.

_But was there not a third choice?_ her mind whispered. _A choice that she had overlooked?_

Death.

She was already dying, by inches. The asylum would kill her. And she would die if she suffered another miscarriage. Which would surely happen if she fell pregnant again. That's what Dr. Booth had said. So why not hasten the process?

Rene's heart was strangely light as she contemplated how to bring about her own demise.

She would have preferred swallowing poison, but there was none in the greenhouse. And she didn't have much time, so her method would have to be much quicker than that. She must be dead before Hugh Crain returned to his chamber and found that she was not there.

She could slice herself in the throat or stab herself in the abdomen with the gardening shears that were lying next to the fountain, but she instantly rejected that idea. She could not bear the idea of killing herself in such a brutal manner.

Her eyes followed the winding staircases that led to a platform near the roof of the greenhouse. Perhaps she could jump from it. No, she couldn't – it wouldn't be a far enough fall to guarantee instant death. And if she were really unlucky, she might only break her arm or leg.

Rene spied a coil of rope sitting on a nearby bench, as though it had been placed there expressly for her. She picked it up and unfurled it. There was plenty – at least, plenty enough for her purposes.

She ascended the staircase, rope clenched tightly in her fists.

Tiny, unseen hands tugged at her skirt as though they knew what she intended to do, and were urging her to not to go through with it.

Rene ignored them. Only death would bring her the release she so desperately desired.

Slowly, carefully, Rene formed a noose and wound the rope around the railing, and then her neck. She made sure to tie both ends tightly. She had only one chance, and she mustn't botch it.

She climbed over the railing and took one last look at her surroundings.

"Rene – no!" the children cried. Their voices were all around her.

She jumped. Everything went black.

But even in death, there was no escape for Rene. She had not gotten her husband's permission to die. Even though she had proved useless to him, he still wasn't going to let her go.

The iron will of Hugh Crain bound her soul to Hill House. Like the children, she was trapped.


	3. Carolyn

Hugh Crain was looking for a wife again. To everyone's surprise, his gaze alighted on Carolyn Snow.

No one was more surprised by Hugh Crain's interest than Carolyn herself. Though she was considered beautiful, her disposition was nothing like Rene's. Carolyn was demure, even-tempered, and never sought attention. Consequently, she had never married, or even had a beau.

One might think that Carolyn, having little experience with men, was a naïve woman. But her modesty belied a perceptive eye. People often underestimated how much she was aware of.

Her parents were thrilled that the richest man in town was courting their daughter. They had given up hope of her ever marrying after she passed age twenty-five. She was now thirty-two.

"Just the right age for marriage," Hugh Crain was heard to remark jovially. "Women who marry young are often second-rate goods that had to be sold in a hurry."

The townspeople, as did Carolyn, took this as a sign. Hugh Crain was obviously smitten with her. Though she expected a proposal to soon be forthcoming, she did not alter her behavior toward him. When he visited, she was cordial as was proper for a woman of her station. She was not foolish enough to swoon into his arms. Even though she probably could have done so. Even though this was her "last chance" to escape from spinsterhood.

But Carolyn had no burning desire to escape from spinsterhood. Her life, though uneventful, was satisfying to her. She was unsure if she wanted to marry Hugh Crain. She would have to think about it.

XXX

She still had not made up her mind when Hugh Crain's proposal came.

"I am flattered, Mr. Crain," she told him, and she truly was. "But I must have time to consider. Marriage is nothing to be entered into lightly."

Instead of being disappointed, as she thought he would be, Hugh Crain looked pleased by her response, as though it confirmed his suspicions that she was as sensible as he had taken her to be. "I understand completely. I imagine my proposal was probably quite unexpected."

Carolyn did not reply. _Only an idiot wouldn't have seen it coming_, she thought. But of course it would be too impolite to say this aloud.

Mistaking her silence for agreement, he bowed and said, "I shall take my leave now, to give you time to think about my request."

"Visit me again in a week," she said. "I will give you my answer then."

He took her hand in his and kissed it. This was the first time he had ever touched her. Carolyn was surprised at how hot his hands, and his lips, were. Her eyes met his, and Carolyn saw much more than the usual platonic interest in them. She felt a queer feeling in the pit of her stomach – half dread, half another feeling she dared not name.

He smiled as though he knew quite well what her answer would be when he visited again next week. Then he politely bade her farewell.

Carolyn maintained her composure until the door closed behind him, and then she had to sit down until she stopped trembling. She fancied she still felt his lips on her hand. God in heaven, how could such a simple gesture arouse such passion in her? She desperately wished Hugh Crain had kissed more than her hand.

Other women might have made up their minds immediately to marry, but Carolyn soon came to her senses and laughed at her foolishness. She would not allow the desires of the flesh to make her decision for her.

Carolyn carefully considered his request and ultimately decided that there was no good reason not to accept Hugh Crain's proposal. Mr. Crain had the manners of a gentleman, and he had been nothing but kind to her. He was a successful and well-respected man in the community. Though she was not "madly in love" with him, she didn't find him unattractive.

The only thing that gave her pause was the rumors she had heard about Rene's death. Some townspeople said she did not die of complications resulting from a miscarriage, but that she had hanged herself in the greenhouse. That Hugh Crain was a monster and he had driven Rene to kill herself. But Carolyn considered these stories as nothing but spiteful tales from those who were jealous of his wealth. After all, Dr. Booth, the town's most esteemed physician, had treated Rene on several occasions and, when questioned, had staunchly averred that her health was rapidly failing.

So Carolyn accepted Hugh Crain's proposal.

XXX

Though she had never married, Carolyn was not at all ignorant of matters between a husband and wife. So she was not unprepared for her wedding night. She was, however, taken completely by surprise by the ferocity of her husband's passion. Carolyn had thought that a man of his age, and a widower besides, would have a diminished appetite for carnal pleasures.

She was completely wrong. Hugh Crain's lust was insatiable. He summoned her to his chambers day and night. One afternoon they were walking in the gardens in a remote part of the estate and his desire came on so suddenly that Carolyn found herself sprawled on the cold, hard ground. He did not even stop to consult her about her feelings on the matter.

Then again, Hugh Crain never asked his wife about her feelings on anything. He took what he wanted as if it were a matter of course. Carolyn accepted this. He was a wealthy, powerful man who was used to getting his way. If he wanted to take his pleasure outside, she would not tell him no. What she did do, however, was to make sure that she was never alone with him in the gardens again. After all, they were not animals, and Carolyn felt that some decorum should be maintained.

And what if one of the gardeners should stumble upon them when they were occupied in such a manner? Not that there were many servants around in the first place. Carolyn had been surprised at how few servants were employed at such a vast mansion as Hill House, but reasoned that her husband valued his privacy and did not wish to have too many people knowing his personal business.

Carolyn might have enjoyed his constant attentions, for her body quickly became accustomed to the physical act of making love, but she always sensed that Hugh Crain's lust was not for her alone. When her husband made love to her, his caresses were never slow or gentle; they were always driven on by some desperate need she could not determine. Instead of becoming aroused, she started to become resentful whenever her husband summoned her.

And then there were the voices she heard at night, when she was alone in her chamber, recovering from her husband's attentions. Voices of children. Sometimes they even called her name. She wondered if she were going mad.

XXX

Though Carolyn hid her feelings, she could not hide her external suffering. Her husband's rough caresses were starting to take their toll on her body. If it weren't for Carolyn's dearly beloved maid, Nellie, who had come with her to Hill House, she never would have been able to bear it.

"He ought to be ashamed of himself," Nellie fumed as she drew a bath for Carolyn one evening. "Summoning you not once, not twice, but three times today – and you have just recently gotten over a cold, too!"

"And I am sure he will summon me at least once more," said Carolyn listlessly. "After all, we have just had supper, and you know how Mr. Crain always wants a frolic before bed."

"Yes – or two," agreed Nellie, shaking her head in disgust.

Carolyn didn't want to think about it. "Why don't you wash my hair, Nellie, and then braid it – no one does it like you can."

Nellie wisely dropped the subject. "All right – your bath is ready."

Carolyn removed her robe and stepped into the tub. Nellie gasped at the sight of her bruised body.

"Please don't, Nellie – " started Carolyn, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

Nellie went to answer it.

It was, as always, Mr. Crain's manservant. "Mr. Crain requests his wife to come to his chamber immediately."

"Well, you can tell Mr. Crain that she is taking her bath at present and will not be disturbed," said Nellie stiffly, and slammed the door in the man's face.

Carolyn giggled. "Nellie! You didn't!"

"I most certainly did," said Nellie firmly. "I will not have you getting ill again."

Carolyn laughed and settled back into her bath, feeling happy for the first time in weeks. "I have never refused a summons before. I wonder how Mr. Crain will take it?"

They soon found out. Not five minutes later, they heard heavy footsteps storming down the corridor, and a loud banging on the door.

Carolyn's glee turned to dread. "Answer the door, Nellie."

Nellie looked fearful. "Are you sure?"

The knocking became more insistent.

Carolyn waved her hand. "Hurry!"

Nellie scurried to the door. Hugh Crain barged right in as soon as she opened the door. "Leave us," he barked. Nellie dropped a quick curtsy and fled.

Carolyn stepped out of the bath and hastily wrapped herself in a robe. "Good evening, husband."

"You should have come when I called," he growled. He approached her, and she recognized the look of animal lust in his eyes. Normally, she would have steeled herself and waited for him to get it over with, but she did not think she could bear any more that day.

"I'm sorry I did not come," said Carolyn. "But I've been feeling rather ill this evening."

He stopped, and his demeanor changed completely. "Ill? How so?"

"I've been very dizzy, and have lost my appetite," she lied, saying any symptom that came to mind. "And I'm feeling faint. In fact, I will faint if I don't sit now." This last statement was not far from the truth. She was exhausted.

"Let me help you, my dear," cooed her husband. He took her arm and gently guided her to a chair. "Shall I order you some tea, darling?"

She was startled – he had never shown such gentleness to her. A lump came into her throat. If he had always been so gentle with her, she could have loved him.

He proceeded to pepper her with questions about her health. At first, Carolyn thought it was out of concern, but then she realized that he was trying to find out something.

"You want to know if I'm pregnant, don't you?" she said wonderingly.

"I would so desire it," he said huskily. "There's nothing I want more than to hear Hill House filled with the laughter of children. Rene was never able to have children, they all died at birth. Then she died, and I – " He couldn't continue.

Hugh Crain was so endearingly shame-faced and vulnerable that he seemed a child himself. Carolyn was so touched that she took his rough hand in hers and kissed it.

"I do not know whether or not I am with child," she confessed. "Hopefully soon I will find out."

"Hopefully soon," he echoed. She saw the yearning in his eyes, and realized that it was as strong as his lust. So that was the need that drove him to summon her day and night! Now she understood him perfectly. She grinned suggestively and caressed his hair. "Perhaps we ought to – improve the odds that I am with child, then?"

To her shock, he brushed her aside. "If you are already with child, you must rest," he said stiffly. "Such activity would be injurious to your health."

Carolyn ought to have been grateful for his concern for her health, but for some reason, she felt even more resentful. Once "the vessel had been filled", he no longer cared to be intimate with her. All she was to him was a magic bottle that would give him the genie he so desperately desired.

Her husband suddenly grabbed her hand. "Come with me. I want to show you something." He pulled her frantically down the corridors and pushed open a large set of double doors.

Carolyn was shocked to hear music, and to see the room spin around. She grew nauseous.

"This is my carousel room," Hugh Crain said eagerly. "I built it for the children. The children Rene should have had." He grabbed Carolyn in a rough embrace. "The children that you will now give to me."

"Remember my health…" she said, wincing in pain.

He let go of her so quickly she almost fell to the ground. "How careless of me to forget," he said apologetically. He stepped into the spinning room. "Darling! Watch me dance! Watch me dance!"

Carolyn smiled and waved. She watched Hugh Crain twirl and gambol around the carousel room and thought: _dear Lord – I've married a madman_!

XXX

The next morning, Carolyn woke up with the overwhelming urge to throw up. Though it helped some, she still felt sick to her stomach. She thought perhaps it was the after-affects of that ridiculous carousel room and did not give her nausea much thought. Her husband had left on a business trip to his factories in Concord, and she was determined to enjoy her brief respite from his constant attentions.

When her nausea worsened over the next several days, Carolyn sent for Dr. Booth. He asked her several questions about her health, diet, and personal habits. Then he examined her.

"What do you think is the matter with me, doctor?" she finally asked.

"You appear to be pregnant," he said.

Carolyn laughed. "Is that so? It's too bad my husband is away, he would be overjoyed at the news."

Dr. Booth did not respond, but instead launched into a litany of things that she must and must not do in her "delicate condition."

She laughed at his worry. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

"It's no laughing matter," he reproved gently. "A woman of your age pregnant for the first time ought not be so glib."

"Of my age! I'm only thirty-two."

"A woman's body is ideally suited to having children at least ten years younger. Childbirth is harder the older one gets, and the recovery period is much longer."

She laughed again. "Tell that to my husband – he wants a houseful of children."

"So I've heard," said Dr. Booth darkly.

Carolyn remembered that this same doctor saw Rene through all of her failed pregnancies. And Rene had only been eighteen when she married Hugh Crain, and died at age twenty-five. "I will do whatever you tell me," she promised.

XXX

With the doctor's detailed instructions in hand, Carolyn settled down to await the return of her husband. She and Nellie spent many pleasant days sewing baby clothes and speculating what her first child would be like.

The nights were a different matter entirely. Carolyn could not sleep because she was constantly plagued by the voices of phantom children desperately pleading for her to help them. At first, Carolyn chalked it up to nervous anticipation for her own babe to arrive, and ignored them.

But the voices became louder and more insistent, and things began to move. She even started to see wispy shapes of children darting through the halls, ducking behind furniture and curtains as though they were playing a frantic game of hide-and-seek.

Carolyn would have thought she was going insane if it were not for Nellie's solemn confirmation that she also experienced the same phenomena. And Nellie was not the sort of person given to flights of fancy. Carolyn was forced to accept the truth – the house was trying to tell her something. She decided to keep her eyes open and wait to see what it was.

One night, she was jerked awake, as though someone had shaken her. But she was alone in the room. When she looked at the carpet, however, she saw bloody footprints – so small that they could be nothing but a child's – leading away from her bed and out the door. Curious, she got up and followed them.

The footprints led to a secret study hidden behind a bookshelf in the library.

"Now what?" Carolyn asked, looking around the study. There were books and papers everywhere – which one did they want her to find?

A large ledger slid off the desk.

"Ask, and ye shall receive," she said wryly. She opened the ledger and began to leaf through the pages.

It was a record of all the employees of her husband's factories in Concord. There was nothing striking about this – except for the fact that several names were crossed out. A cross was next to each of the lines, indicating that the employees had died. And they were all children. Every single one.

Carolyn had seen enough. She carefully replaced the ledger on the desk. So many names. There must have been hundreds of them. What was happening at her husband's factories that so many children in his employ should die?

Feeling a wave of nausea – nausea that was most certainly unrelated to her "delicate condition" – Carolyn turned to leave the study.

Hugh Crain was standing on the stairwell, watching her.

"Husband!" she cried. "You're home!"

"Only just," he said, his face inscrutable in the shadows. "What are you doing down here, Carolyn?"

She frantically searched for an excuse. "I heard a noise. I came to investigate, and – I ended up here."

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know," he scolded. His voice was tense, as though he was trying desperately to mask his fury.

Her heart hammered wildly. How long had he been standing there, watching her? How much had he seen?

Hugh Crain descended the stairs. She saw the anger in his eyes – and it was mixed with the licentious look she knew all too well.

"It was wrong of me," she said contritely. "I should never have intruded. I will leave now."

She started to go but he grabbed her around the waist. "What's the hurry, my dear? You won't even stop to kiss your husband, whom you haven't seen for over a fortnight?"

"You will demand much more than a kiss," she retorted before she could stop herself. Carolyn bit her tongue against further reply. She must keep her temper so he would not lose his.

But Hugh Crain only laughed. "Consider it the price you must pay for sticking your nose in where it isn't wanted." He pulled at her nightgown so hard one of the buttons popped off. One of her shoulders was exposed.

"I'm pregnant!" she blurted before he did anything more to her.

He stopped and shook himself, as though he were waking up from a dream. "What did you say?"

"I said, I'm pregnant," she gabbled. "It's true. Ask Nellie. Ask my maid. Ask Dr. Booth. He came to examine me last week. He gave me a list of things I must and must not do – "

She could not say anything more. Her husband grabbed her to him and planted a searing kiss on her lips. "This is the most wonderful news, darling!" He kissed her again.

"I am glad you are so happy," she said, dazed. She could never get used to his sudden mood swings.

Hugh Crain once again became the gentle, affectionate husband and insisted on seeing her to her chamber. Then he summoned a servant and told him that he was to make sure Carolyn's every need was met, and to do anything she asked.

He had forgotten all about the incident in the study. But Carolyn had not. Alone in the darkness, she wondered what the ledger meant, and if it boded ill for her unborn child.

XXX

Hugh Crain's delight in Carolyn increased as her pregnancy went further along. He was unfailingly attentive and bought her lavish gifts. He even commissioned a jeweler to make an exquisitely wrought silver locket with an ornate C etched on the front. This was her favorite gift of all – she never removed it, not even when she went to sleep at night.

Sometimes she was able to fool herself into thinking that she loved him.

Her husband also gave her a weekly allowance and told her to spend it on anything she wished. Unbeknownst to him, she didn't touch a cent, except to buy a few trifles so he wouldn't get suspicious. She had the unpleasant feeling she might need that money someday.

It was this that reminded her she did not love Hugh Crain. Because she could not trust him enough to spend all the money she received. And Carolyn was wise enough to know that love cannot exist without trust.

She could not love Hugh Crain. Not even when he spent so much time finding ways to immortalize her. Her portrait appeared on walls all throughout Hill House. And in each painting, she wore her locket with the distinctive C.

She posed for so many painters and photographers that she lost count of them all. It was exhausting, especially in her state. But she did not complain – it was still a thousand times better than the endless summons to her husband's chamber, which had become a thing of the past when the words "I'm pregnant" had fallen from her lips like pebbles into a well.

There was one particular photo session that she would never forget, however.

Carolyn and her husband were having their pictures taken in the cavernous main parlor. After a few formal portraits were taken of them both, and then her alone, the photographer had her pose in several different positions that were supposed to suggest elegance and artistry. She clasped her hands and looked reverently heavenward like a Madonna. She held a fan in front her face so only her eyes were visible. She stood half-turned, one arm gesturing carelessly to the massive fireplace.

This last pose gave her an idea. After the photographer left, Carolyn cuddled up to her husband and said tenderly, "Why don't we sit and rest for awhile by the fireplace? I can summon a servant to build us a wonderful fire."

He grabbed her arm as she walked to the fireplace. "No! That's absolutely out of the question!"

"Why?" she asked, irritated. By now she had grown used to being indulged in her every whim. "I'm feeling a bit chilly. A fire would be just the thing."

"I said no," he replied sternly. "Did you hear me? Or has pregnancy made you deaf as well as cold?"

Carolyn twisted in his grip. "You're hurting my arm!"

"I want to make sure the message gets through that thick skull of yours," he said, tightening his grip even more.

"But my condition – " she said weakly.

"Your 'condition' will be a lot worse if you do not obey. There will be no fires in the main parlor. Understand?" His eyes bored into hers.

She nodded.

"Good," he said, releasing her. "I shall see you at dinner." He turned and left.

Carolyn rubbed her sore arm. She definitely could never love Hugh Crain.

She looked at the fireplace. What was he hiding?

XXX

Carolyn waited until her husband left for Concord before trying to find out what was in the fireplace. By then, she was eight months along in her pregnancy.

She waited until the next day after her husband had left, just to be safe. After she sent the servants on various errands that would keep them away, she summoned Nellie. In her state, she could not open the heavy metal doors herself.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" asked Nellie, staring at the fireplace with trepidation.

"Yes," said Carolyn passionately. "I must know. Then perhaps the children will finally leave me in peace!" The children called to her nightly now.

Nellie nodded and opened the doors, which revealed an ash-filled pit. She sneezed. "My goodness! When was the last time this fireplace was properly cleaned?" She carefully surveyed the contents of the pit. "Just normal remnants from past fires."

"We'll see about that," muttered Carolyn. She took a poker and started sifting through the ashes.

"All I see is charred wood," said Nellie.

Carolyn struck something. She lifted it up with a pair of tongs.

"God almighty," gasped Nellie.

It was a bone. A thigh, from the looks of it.

Repulsed, Carolyn dropped it back into the pit. She heard it knock against something hollow-sounding. Picking up the poker, she sifted the ash around the mysterious lump.

It was a skull.

Nellie screamed.

"Hush!" hissed Carolyn, clamping her hand over Nellie's mouth.

"Oh Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord…." Nellie moaned.

Carolyn shook her. "Nellie! You must pull yourself together!"

"Oh, my poor mistress..."

"Listen to me," said Carolyn firmly. "You must not tell a soul what we have discovered. Promise me!"

"We've got to get out of here!" Nellie cried.

"I agree," said Carolyn. "But we cannot just run away. He'd look for me. He'd use all his wealth and power to search for me, and his child. We will wait for the right opportunity. Until then, we must act as though nothing has happened."

Nellie gaped at her.

"We will begin by closing these doors." Carolyn grabbed one in her hand and pushed it shut.

Nellie's protective instincts were awakened. "Let me do that! You shouldn't be lifting such heavy things in your state. Go sit down on that sofa."

As Carolyn watched Nellie close the doors sweep up the ash that had been scattered about, the gravity of her situation sank in. Her husband was a murderer. A murderer. And she had to smile at him when he returned, and never let on that she knew his secret. And while planning escape not just for herself, but for her child as well. How on earth was she to accomplish all this? The strain on her was too immense – she couldn't bear it.

A sudden, sharp pain more intense than anything she had ever felt in her life scattered her thoughts. "Nellie!" she gasped. "I think my time has come!"

XXX

Nellie quickly spirited Carolyn to a room with a small golden door. It was little more than a storage area where Hugh Crain kept superfluous sculptures and artwork. It was a good hiding spot. Even though her husband was away, she felt the need to hide.

Thankfully, her labor was short, and she soon gave birth to a healthy baby girl. "I will call her Rosalind," Carolyn gasped when she could talk again.

"Now what are we to do?" fretted Nellie.

Carolyn was no longer worried. For the first time since she married Hugh Crain, she felt a deep calm. With the birth of Rosalind, a path to freedom had unfurled marvelously before her. She knew exactly what needed to be done. But she allowed herself the luxury of cuddling her new daughter before she replied.

"I will tell you what we are to do. You will take Rosalind and leave tonight."

Nellie brightened. "We're leaving tonight?"

Carolyn shook her head. "Only you and Rosalind will be leaving tonight. I cannot go with you, not yet."

"Why not?" Nellie demanded.

"Because he'd find me," she said grimly. "And when he finds me, he finds Rosalind. I have to get him to let me go."

"But how?"

"I have a plan," said Carolyn.

Nellie blanched as Carolyn told her what she had in mind. "Oh, my mistress! You can't do that! He'll kill you!"

"Perhaps," assented Carolyn. "But at least Rosalind would still be safe."

XXX

Nellie left with Rosalind that very evening. Carolyn gave her all the money she had saved and arranged to meet them at an inn just outside of town.

"Are you sure you won't come with us?" Nellie pleaded.

"I will come as soon as he lets me go," promised Carolyn.

After they were gone, Carolyn returned to her chamber, and waited nervously for her husband to come home.

It was a remarkably silent vigil. The children had gone quiet. Perhaps now that she had discovered their bones, they had been able to depart in peace. But she somehow knew that this wasn't the case, as much as she'd like to believe it was. She sensed that they, too, were waiting for Hugh Crain's return.

They were waiting to see what she would do.

XXX

Carolyn was sitting in her chamber when her husband returned. His face brightened when he saw her. "Well met, my darling!" He checked at her appearance. "You're so pale!"

She had purposely not eaten much to give herself a wan appearance and had not washed her hair so her tresses would appear lusterless. "I've been ill."

His expression was one of deep concern. "Nothing serious, I hope?"

She stood up so that her husband could see her newly slim figure. "I have had a miscarriage."

Her husband staggered as though she had knifed him. "What?"

"I have had a miscarriage," she repeated.

"No!" he moaned. "It cannot be!"

Carolyn had to press him further. He was angry, but still not angry enough to let her go.

"It is," she said gravely. "And not only that, Dr. Booth says I cannot have any children. That is to say, I am physically unable to."

"You're just like her!" he spat. His hands clenched into fists. "You're both worthless!"

Now it was time for the _coup de grace_. Instead of feeling fear, Carolyn felt a deep satisfaction. She walked over to Hugh Crain until she was so close to him that she could feel his hot breath on her cheeks.

"And let me tell you something, husband. Something I've wanted to say to you for the longest time. If all I had to do was lift one tiny finger to give you all the children in the world – I wouldn't move a muscle."

He let out a roar and gave her a blow that sent her tumbling to the ground. "Get out! Get out of this house!"

Carolyn stifled a sigh of relief. She had won. He was letting her go. She shakily got to her feet. "I shall leave at once."

"Yes – and be damned!" he roared. He picked up a jewelry box from the vanity and hurled it at Carolyn. This was followed by a comb, a brush, a perfume bottle, a miniature statuette – anything he could lay his hands on, he threw at her.

Carolyn did not waste another minute. She fled from Hill House as fast as her feet would carry her. She did not even stop to pack a valise. It didn't matter, really – she had sent a few things with Nellie earlier. What mattered was getting out of there. Alive.

The voices of the murdered children erupted around her as she ran. "Please don't go, Carolyn!" She felt a hundred tiny hands tug at her sleeves, her shawl, the hem of her gown.

"No!" she cried, waving them away.

"But you're the only one who can set us free!" they wailed.

Carolyn kept running and did not stop until she was outside the gates. She could still hear their voices.

"Carolyn, come back!"

"I'm sorry," she said sadly. "I can't – not now. He'd kill me. But I will come back some day. You have my solemn promise."

After one last look, she turned and left Hill House behind.

XXX

Carolyn was soon reunited with Rosalind and Nellie, and the three settled down into a comfortable existence in Boston. She never remarried. But her daughter grew into a lovely woman who was not haunted by the nightmares that constantly plagued her mother – Carolyn made sure of that. She made sure Rosalind never even knew her father's true name.

She still kept the locket Hugh Crain had given her. She never wore it, but instead hung it from her bedpost as a powerful reminder of what she had escaped. Whenever she looked at a man and felt "familiar stirrings" within herself, all she had to do to quell them was gaze at the locket. She would not put her head in the noose again.

Deep down, Carolyn intended to keep her promise to someday return to Hill House, but she never found the right opportunity. There was raising her daughter to think about, of course. But even after Rosalind grew up and got married to a wonderful, charming young man who was nothing like Hugh Crain, she still found reasons to stay away.

As she neared the end of her life – lovingly cared for in her final illness by her daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter – Carolyn was burdened with the nagging guilt that she should have returned while she was still able to help.

XXX

It turned out she was right. After Carolyn exhaled for the final time, she was whisked away from the arms of her family and pulled inexorably back to Hill House. No one noticed her arrival, but she noticed everything and everyone in and about the estate. The children were there, hiding wherever they could. Rene's sad spirit skulked around the greenhouse. Hugh Crain was still around, of course, terrorizing the children in death as he had in life. He still couldn't let them go.

Carolyn hovered around the main parlor, wondering what she could possibly do to help the situation. Then, in a flash, she realized – the doors! She had to get Hugh Crain to stand in front of the doors and be judged. But it was too late for her to do anything. She was dead – she could not lure him to the doors without getting trapped herself. Someone living had to do it.

Even though she was little more than shadow and mist, Carolyn wept bitterly. She should have come back sooner. She should have come back sooner.

Fortunately, in death, as in life, her cooler head prevailed. There was no sense in shrieking like a banshee if nothing could be done. She would simply have to find another way to help the children. Carolyn made a vow that she would not leave until the children were set free. Even if she had to wait a thousand years. Even if she had to wait a million years. Unseen and unnoticed, she settled herself into her old room and waited for a solution to present itself.

But nobody ever bought Hill House. Caretakers came and went. Carolyn lost all sense of time. Still, she waited.

Once she sneaked to the greenhouse with the intent of talking to Rene and forging an alliance with her, but the woman was so self-absorbed in her own misery that she could not even see past the end of her own nose. Carolyn never tried again.

Though it pained her to hear Hugh Crain chasing after the children night after night, Carolyn did nothing. If he found her, he would force her to leave again. Then she could never help the children. So she only watched. Waited for the right opportunity.

One day she overheard the latest caretakers, the Dudleys, talking about the visitors that would be arriving to Hill House – the first visitors the house would have since Mr. Crain had died. Now was the moment for her to act. Taking care not to attract the notice of her husband, she slipped out of her hiding spot and made a quick telephone call to a tiny little apartment in Boston – an apartment very near where she once lived.

A short while later, the first of Dr. Marrow's group arrived. A shy woman with long brown hair and a dreamy look in her eyes walked into Carolyn's room, accompanied by Mrs. Dudley. And though it was not visible, Carolyn knew that the woman was wearing a locket with an ornate C engraved on it.

Carolyn recognized her immediately. She wanted to rush and hug her, to tell her everything all at once.

Carolyn restrained herself. She must be patient. She had waited many years, she could wait a little while longer. Gradually, and with the children's help, she would reveal to the woman what needed to be done to end Hugh Crain's reign of terror over Hill House.

"Welcome home, Eleanor," she whispered softly.


End file.
